


Village Coward

by Fanfictionwriter117



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Belle shows him kindness, Gen, He's made to wear a sign around his neck, Humiliation, Lady Belle, Peasant!Rumple, Spinner!Rumple, The Stocks, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:12:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfictionwriter117/pseuds/Fanfictionwriter117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She stared in horror at the sign around his neck; Village Coward</p>
            </blockquote>





	Village Coward

She always loved journeying to Longbourne no matter what time of the year it was. While she knew that it was a days journey from Avonlea, her home, it was always worth the visit. She loved the atmosphere and the produce. She loved walking amongst the people, watching the butcher chop his meat, smell the scent of freshly baked bread from the baker's stall and every so often visit the tailor's stall for a new dress. 

She had been browsing a book stall, wondering if there may be another she could add to her vast collection. Sadly, there was nothing that caught her eye. Not that it phased her, having  an entire library back home.

She left the book stall and headed in the direction of the baker's stall, never able to resist the delicious aroma of the freshly baked bread and buns. Stacked on small makeshift rows were loaves, cakes, buns and puff pastries.

"Would you like to buy, Milady?' The baker asked friendly, seeing her interest in his produce.

She smiled, asking for two hot cross buns. The baker nodded as he picked up two hot cross buns, wrapping them in a thin cloth before handing them to her, cautioning that they were hot. She set them carefully into her woven basket.

"How much?" She asked, reaching for her coin purse.

"For you Milady, two coppers." The baker smiled warmly. She handed him his money, waving goodbye as she left. She passed the farmer's market and the Tanner before the small cobbled road took her into the market square. This part of the market was relatively empty compared to other areas, with only a few stall scattered around the square and fewer customers. What she saw in the middle of the square was something that would stay with her.

In the centre of the square, a wooden stocks was erected.

In the stocks, a head and hands were visible. Around the stocks, she saw the scattered remnants of rotten fruit and vegetables. 

She hesitantly stepped closer, now able to see that the poor soul locked in the contraption was a man, his face obscured by brown waves of hair. She continued in her strides, despite the shakiness in her legs. It was only when she was half way towards him she noticed the crude sign hung around his neck.

_Village Coward._

She stared in horror at the sign. It was there to label him, to bring shame on him. She had seen done before to thieves and criminals. This man was not a criminal so why was he receiving a criminal's punishment? If he noticed her presence, he did not show it despite the restricted movement the stocks allowed him. He was forced to stand at a bent angle, he was also attempting to elevate his right leg in an attempt to take some pressure off that ankle. She noticed that a discarded walking stick was lying a few feet away from him.

His hands were red from the cold and she noticed the slight tremor in them. By now, the village square had all but cleared so no one paid her any mind as she knelt down before him, gently brushing some of the dirty, matted hair out of his face. She could smell the odour of spoiled fruit and vegetables coming from him just as she could also feel the stickiness of his hair. 

"Hey," she whispered, stroking the lank strands of hair out of his face. Despite her efforts, his eyes remained closed, but the tear tracks on his cheeks were clearly visible now that his hair had been brushed aside. She could see that his hands were still shaking, from cold or from fear, she didn't know.

_Possibly both_ , she thought sadly. The man had spent hours having rotten fruit, vegetables, mud and stones thrown at him as she came to realise, discovering two small gashes above his eyebrow and across the bridge of his nose. His lips were slightly parted, chapped and split from the cold. The poor man was freezing as she could see his whole body shivering. Looking around the contraption, she seen that there was no padlock which held it in place, only a piece of wood slotted between two rings, one connected to the lower half of the stocks while the other was attached to the upper half. The stick was settled between them but bent at the top so that it would not be possible to remove without intervention. Unless anyone deemed it time for him to be released, he would remain there.

She gingerly took the sign from around his neck, discarding it.

The feeling of the sign being taken from around his neck caused him to finally open his eyes. He raised his eyes to her, fear still evident in his eyes. She smiled reassuringly at him. 

"I'll have you out of this soon," she promised, moving to where the wooden boards were secured to one another.

Gripping the wooden stave tightly she pulled as hard as she could, hope renewed every time she felt the old wood shift even the slightest bit. She continued to pull until she could finally wedge the wood out of the tight rings. 

Lifting the top half off of the man's head, she gently rubbed his neck. He tried to move his head but a pained moan escaped his lips. He lowered his head back into the wooden groove again with a soft whimper. He had been in that position for so long it hurt to move.

He couldn't move.

She gently laid a hand on the back of his neck, while her other hand gently took a hold of his chin, easing him out of the hole. Letting the top half fall back into position, she moved her hand to support his back, rubbing soothingly as he tried to ease himself into an upright position. She winced when she heard the bones in his back crack after being forced to stand in that position for so long. She could see the pain in his face and he would most defiantly be feeling it the next morning. Entwining her arm with his, she bent down to retrieve his discarded walking stick, giving it to him.

He grabbed his sick, clutching it as though it were a lifeline. He nodded to her, mouth slightly parted. 

"Let's go," she said, still holding his arm as she began to lead him away. He limped slowly as she walked him through the now quiet streets. The crowds had long since gone and the vendors were beginning to pack up their unsold wares. As they passed the remaining market stalls, some still selling food, she stopped and to his surprise asked to purchase some meat, vegetables and bread. She requested that they be bound and packed, so when the bundles of produce were given to her, he couldn't help but stare. She then stopped at another stall which was selling furs and asked to purchase a sheepskin. Unlike the other purchases she made, she did not request this one to be bound.

"Come," she gently coaxed him, mindful of his ankle.

As they neared the entrance to the market, all that could be heard was the muffled voices of vendors as they recounted their day of selling their wares. It was there they encountered a cart driver who had been in the process of his donkey to the cart, ready to go home after a long day. Most of the vendors in this market were good people. Hardworking folk who were trying to earn a living off their trade.

"You there!" She suddenly shouted, making the man beside her jump, clutching his walking stick even tighter. The cart driver looked up from what he was doing, seeing that she was addressing him. 

"Yes milady?" He asked, rubbing his grubby hands against his breeches. She did not respond, instead she put her hand into her leather coin purse, drawing out five gold coins. 

"Take him to his village, help him home." Was all she said, placing the five gold coins into his hand, leaving both the cart driver and the man beside her stunned. The cart driver looked at the coins before looking back at the young woman.

"O-Of course, milday." He stammered, tipping his leather cap to her respectfully. Stuffing the coins into his own purse, he went back to getting his donkey ready for the journey. She meanwhile walked the older man to the back of the cart, helping him to lift himself onto it. She placed the food parcels and the sheepskin on the back of the cart with him and for a moment he thought that she may be coming too? She smiled at him as she laid the sheepskin out flat. 

"Make yourself comfortable," she said with a warm smile and only then did he realise that she had bought those things for him!

_For him? She had bought fresh meat, bread and vegetables for him? Why?_

He honestly didn't know, all he did know was that a single tear was running down his cheek. Fumbling to wipe it, he saw her reach into her basket, pulling out one of the hot cross buns she had purchased at the bakers stall earlier that day. She handed it to him;

"For the journey," she clarified. The poor man was staring at it as though he had never seen one before. He looked up at her, his eyes once again brimming with unshed tears. He had not been acknowledged in such a long time. He honestly could not remember the last time someone had spoken a kind word to him. Biting his lower lip to stop it quivering he held the bun close to his chest as though it were a priceless treasure.

"T-Thank..you...m-milady." It was the first time she had heard him speak. His voice was deep enough for a man his age with the hint of a brogue, weary. 

"Belle." She corrected him gently, adjusting the upper part of his tunic so that his thin chest was protected from the wind. He nodded, warmth in his own eyes. "Belle."

"What's your name?" She asked curiously. At this he seemed surprised more than anything else at the notion that someone would want to know his name. He swallowed, trying to think of what revealing his name to her might do. But she had been so kind to him, she wouldn't simply turn on him, would she?

"...Rumplestiltskin." He said hesitantly, averting his eyes in shame. Part of him expected her to recoil in disgust upon hearing the name, but all she did was step closer to him before wrapping her arms around him in a gentle embrace. She put a hand behind his head, bringing his head forward to place a gentle kiss upon his brow.

"Be safe," She whispered, before flagging the cart driver that he could leave. The cart began to move slowly as Rumplestiltskin adjusted himself into a more comfortable position for the long journey home. He curled in on himself upon his sheepskin, eyes becoming heavier. The last thing he seen before finally succumbing to sleep was her smile, reassuring him that he was alright. In all his years, never had he experienced such kindness from a stranger and it was a kindness that he would not soon forget.

Belle, however knew that she would go to bed that night knowing that she had aided a suffering man who would soon be safely home in his bed. That thought brought her comfort, knowing that he was safe.

She was just sad that she wouldn't be able to see his face when he found the gold coin she had slipped him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a small idea that I had in my head for some time!


End file.
